Showing Him They Care
by Smackalicious
Summary: Palmer has a daily "game" he plays with Mrs. Mallard. Ooh la la. Crack!Fic. Suggests a follow-up to Palmer and His Secret Lover. You've been warned.


Title: Showing Him They Care  
Summary: Palmer has a daily "game" he plays with Mrs. Mallard. Ooh la la.  
Rated: FR15  
Categories: Crack!Fic  
Genre: Crack!Fic  
Author's Note: Written for the Weekly Writing Game, week 8. Pairing was Palmer/Mrs. Mallard, prompt was unity. Suggests a follow-up to Palmer and His Secret Lover.

* * *

**Showing Him They Care**

"I thought we agreed we weren't going to do this again after we got caught last time."

"Oh, posh, you do not think I was about to give up our daily game, did you, boy? Now get over here. Donald isn't expected home for hours yet." Mrs. Mallard held out shaky arms to her young partner, who came to her only after a nervous glance at the door behind him.

"You don't think we should go to the bedroom?" he asked, casting another sidelong look behind him.

"Mr. Palmer, you are almost as bad as that Agent Gibbs fellow," Mrs. Mallard scoffed, slowly standing and hobbling away.

Palmer paled. "You played with Agent Gibbs?"

"Oh, heavens no, he refu– Who is Agent Gibbs again?"

Palmer shook his head. He really had no idea how he had ended up involved with Dr. Mallard's mother, of all people, especially after he had gotten involved with Ducky himself. Well, that was only after that dinner party at Ziva's house and _that_ had gotten him involved with _both_ Ziva and Abby – at the same time, nonetheless. Man, that was a _really_ fun party. And then _McGee_ had felt left out, and once _Tony_ found out . . . Well, Agent Lee wasn't the only one visiting him after hours in autopsy, that was for sure.

He brought himself from his reverie and looked to the kitchen, where Mrs. Mallard was attempting to open a can of moist dog food for her corgis. Or, well, he thought it was for the corgis, anyway. After she removed the lid of the can, he saw her take out a fork, stab it into the slab of wet food, then bring it up to her mouth.

His eyes widened and he ran into the kitchen, shouting, "Victoria! Put that down!"

Mrs. Mallard impatiently set down the fork on the edge of the counter and it tumbled to the floor, triggering an onslaught of little yapping dogs to scramble across the linoleum, licking up the wayward meal. "Now look what you've done, young man! Are you pleased with yourself?"

"Well, uh," Palmer started, scratching his head, "I guess so . . ."

"Hmph!" Mrs. Mallard huffed, turning away from him. "That will teach Donald to bring home the young ones. So careless these days!"

Palmer frowned. He really didn't know how Dr. Mallard could live with his mother sometimes; she was really a crazy old bat.

Suddenly, his cell phone beeped at him, causing Mrs. Mallard to turn and cry out, "Spies! Or are they robots? Robot spies! Oh, dear . . ."

Palmer got a look of concern on his face and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Jimmy?"

He smiled broadly. "Abby! Hi! What can I do for you?"

"Oh, dear, he knows the spy by name," Mrs. Mallard howled in the background.

Palmer walked further into the living room, away from her mad ramblings, listening as Abby continued. "Well, um, Ziva wanted me to call you. It's pretty slow at NCIS today and we're kinda bored and we were just thinking, you know, we hadn't seen you in awhile . . ."

His grin continued to widen. "Yeah, yeah, I can be back to NCIS in no time . . ."

"Don't leave me here alone!" Mrs. Mallard continued to whine. "Donald will be ever so upset. Oh, dear . . ."

Palmer spoke above her complaints. "Well, Abby, I'm looking after Dr. Mallard's mother right now . . ."

"Jimmy," Abby complained. "We miss you. I mean, we could just get Tony and Timmy, but they aren't nearly as patient as you are . . ."

"Okay, you talked me into it," he interrupted her, grinning. "Mrs. Mallard will be fine by herself until Dr. Mallard gets home. It shouldn't be too long." He looked back into the kitchen, where the woman he spoke of was preparing herself another forkful of dog food. "Though I may have to put some things away first." He entered the kitchen and took the fork from her hand, leaving her pouting. "But I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Great! I'll let Ziva know. See you when you get here, Jimster!"

"Bye Abby!" Palmer turned his phone off and turned back to Mrs. Mallard. "Victoria! What did I tell you about the dog food?"

"But I'm so hungry, my boy . . ."

Back at NCIS, Abby hung up her phone and spun in her chair, facing the woman sitting behind her.

"So?" Ziva asked eagerly.

"We're on," Abby replied, grinning. Ziva returned the smile and gave her a high five.

And Palmer, back at the Mallard residence, still had a smile on his face. He truly felt united with the team because of their special bonds. All he needed to do now was tuck Mrs. Mallard away in her bedroom so she wouldn't cause any trouble before Ducky got home, swing by his place and pick up the supplies.

Playing Twister had never been so much fun.

**THE END!**

_A/N: Yeah, I'm evil. :p_


End file.
